


You're the Elusive Chord on My Old Guitar

by bertie456 (bertee)



Series: Bones: You're Lovely to Me [32]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertie456





	You're the Elusive Chord on My Old Guitar

_Pillows shouldn't be able to speak._

Hearing the pillow call her name again, Brennan sleepily murmured her disapproval, her mouth making a valiant attempt at actually producing the words that scrolled through her barely functioning brain. _Speech is not a pillow characteristic. It's wrong, unnatural, and against all laws of god and pillow._ She twitched her nose in contemplation. _Do pillows believe in a god?_ She sighed, noticing that the pillow had stopped talking, and started to drift back off to sleep, pondering idly, _The Ancient Greeks used to have a god of dreams. Maybe there was a god of pillows, like Snoozeus, or Apillo. Hmm, I should go research that._ She reconsidered. _Tomorrow._

Letting her shoulders relax, she teetered on the brink of log-like slumber, only to be tugged back by the sound of her name coming from her pillow again. Refusing to acknowledge 'awakeness' as a possibility at this point, she resolutely kept her eyes shut in protest. _I am possum, see me play._ The pillow apparently didn't take the hint and kept calling, forcing Brennan to burrow her face deeper into it as she decided, _Fine, an ostrich then. I will bury my head in the pillow and ignore the rest of the world._

This plan was thwarted, however, by a pillow-administered splash of cold water in the face.

Jerking awake with a yelp she would later deny producing, Brennan's ears were assaulted by the sound of gunshots and she blinked in confusion, wiping the water from her eyes and looking round to reassure herself that she hadn't sleep-walked into a war-zone. She relaxed as her gaze fell on the television in her lounge which was currently the source of the gunshot noises since a movie, which Booth had told her was called 'Die Hard', played out on screen.

Slightly dazed, she stared blankly at the screen for a few moments, trying to fathom what had actually happened while she'd rested her eyes for a few seconds. Unable to reach a conclusion other than 'lots of shooting', she smirked to herself as she remembered the expression on her partner's face when she'd apparently taken the title of the movie too literally and launched into an explanation of the possibility of post mortem priapism.

Having established the origin of the noise, she then turned to her right to investigate the source of the cold water, and crossed her arms petulantly when she saw Booth grinning at her from his position on her couch, a half-empty glass of water visible in his hand.

Mystery solved, she slumped back on the cushions, saying sulkily, "Was that really necessary?"

He shrugged, still smiling, "Hey, I tried asking you to wake up. You just mumbled something about ostriches and then tried to go to sleep."

She glowered at him. "You could've just let me sleep. It's nearly ten o'clock."

"Okay, first of all, it's six thirty, and second, you asked me to keep you awake, remember?"

 _Well it seemed like a good idea at the time,_ she thought miserably, recalling the circumstances that had led to this particular situation. _My publishers asked me to go to Europe for promotional duties, and since my body clock usually becomes out of sync for a week because of jet lag, it was only logical to take Booth up on his offer of helping me stay awake until a sensible time of night, rather than falling asleep mid-afternoon._ She looked over at the agent with loathing. _Maybe I could knock him out for a little while so that I could sleep..._

Deciding that thwacking her partner with a skillet would require more movement that she was currently capable of, Brennan opted for a slightly less violent approach, suggesting, "And I'm grateful for the effort, Booth, but I should be alright now. I can sleep through till morning and my sleeping patterns will be back to normal for the rest of the week."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Uh-huh. Remind me, what time did you go to bed after your last long-haul flight?"

"Six o'clock," she answered sheepishly.

Booth smirked, already knowing the answer to his next question, "And what time did you wake up the next morning?"

Brennan looked down. "Three thirty."

"And how many people did you karate-chop that day because you were tired and cranky?"

"Four," she admitted guiltily before making a half-hearted attempt at defending her actions, "But three of them were criminals..."

"And one of them was a security guard at the Jeffersonian who tapped you on the shoulder to return a file you dropped," Booth pointed out with a grin. "You also happened to attack me by the way."

"You don't count."

"Why, because I should've known that telling you we had a case would result in me ending up flat on my back with your foot on my neck?" He chuckled. "Face it, Bones, you having a bedtime that's later than a six-year-old's is best for everyone."

"How am I supposed to stay up?" she retorted, a little more harshly than she'd intended.

Booth didn't seem fazed and answered teasingly, "Not falling asleep on my shoulder would be a good way to start."

Her bottom lip protruded in a slight pout as she replied, "But you were comfortable..."

"Thanks, Bones. I'm sure my mom would be so proud to know she raised a 'comfortable' child."

 _Considering she named you after a mattress, I'd say it's likely,_ she thought pointedly, but instead asked with an air of defeat, "So what's next from the Federal Bureau of Sleep Deprivation? Because so far coffee, sugar and loud movies haven't worked."

Booth raised his eyebrows at her tone but was unable to keep the smile of his lips as he inquired, "Feeling a little testy, Bones?"

Her eyes narrowed, the ferocity of the glare somewhat lessened by the drop of water that trickled slowly down her forehead. "I've not slept in twenty-six hours."

He remained unflappable, simply raising the glass of water again. "We could always try some more water? I think maintenance might have a hose somewhere?" The stare he received informed him that Brennan would react in much the same way as a Mogwai if doused with any more water, and he amended, "Alright, water's out. You got any ideas?"

She thought for a second before her ever-present science side emerged again, the sleepiness of her tone coupled with the logic of her words making her sound a little like Einstein with a hangover as she suggested, "Eating sunflower seeds which are still in the husk is thought to be a good method of stimulation. Cracking them open one by one requires active concentration and tongue movement which stops people from falling asleep, and the salty taste of the seeds is invigorating."

Booth stared at her as he tried to process her comments. Only registering the words "stimulation", "concentration", "tongue movement" and "salty taste", he said quickly, doing his best to sound casual, "Do you have any sunflower seeds?"

Brennan frowned, her scientific reasoning obviously not having gotten that far. "No..."

Pushing away any mental pictures of what she could use instead, he changed the subject, putting forward another idea, "How about exercise?"

She considered this briefly before nodding in acceptance, "Exercise stimulates blood flow around the body which helps combat drowsiness."

"Great." Flashing her a smile, he pushed himself off the couch with ease and turned to face her, his hands on his hips as he said, only half joking, "Drop and give me twenty."

 _I'll drop, but I'm not giving you twenty,_ she thought stubbornly but much to her disgust, her mouth only produced a noise that sounded remarkably like a whimper.

Drill Sergeant Booth was evidently unfazed by the un-Brennan-like response of his exhausted partner and moved to grasp her wrists, saying with affection, "Up you go, Bones." She managed not to protest as he pulled her reluctantly up to a standing position between the couch and the coffee table, her body a foot away from his own, but raised her eyebrows in disbelief when he offered cheerfully, "Let's try some jumping jacks."

She blinked. "Jumping jacks?"

"Yeah, you know..." He jumped so that his legs were stretched apart and his hands reached above his head, and then returned neatly to his starting position with the expertise of a well-drilled soldier. "Jumping jacks."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "I know what a jumping jack is, Booth."

"Then let's see one," he prompted encouragingly.

 _Sadistic bastard,_ she thought to herself, deciding that childish whingeing and gratuitous name-calling were entirely permissible as long as they weren't vocalised. Giving an overly dramatic sigh, she made a sleepy attempt at a jumping jack before folding her arms and glaring up at a chuckling Booth. "You're not helping."

"I'm not helping?" he asked in surprise, shoulders still shaking with laughter. Finally composing himself, he met her eyes with a challenging stare. "You want me to help, I'll help. Turn around." She looked perplexed and he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her round to face the couch, her body brushing against his in the confined space. Wrapping his large hands around her wrists again, he moved closer to her, asking firmly, "You ready?"

Without waiting for a response, he called loudly, "Jump!" and simultaneously raised her arms above her head, almost lifting her into a jump.

Unsure what she'd been expecting, but fairly confident that it hadn't been this, Brennan was taken aback by the action, and tried to pull her arms down, protesting feebly, "Booth-"

"Jump!"

Her body automatically obeyed the command given by the voice in her ear and she jumped as Booth lowered her arms back to her sides before starting the process again.

"Jump!"

She made more of an effort the second time her hands were pulled above her head, but the vibrations against her back from Booth's barely disguised laughter didn't help with her concentration.

"Jump!"

As he lowered her arms, she elbowed him playfully in the stomach, her own lips curving up in a smile while she made another conviction-free protest, "Booth, stop-"

"Jump!"

A laugh escaped her when he raised both of their arms above their heads without any input from her whatsoever, especially as her feet now remained tiredly on the ground.

"Jump!"

Booth's shouts became less and less authoritative from the combination of his partner's apparent refusal to participate and the sheer ridiculousness of the fact that he was now doing little more than flapping her arms up and down.

"Jump!"

This time, he slid his lower leg in between hers as he lifted her arms, trying to nudge her knees and ankles apart into some semblance of a jumping jack position. Unfortunately, Brennan's tiredness, lack of co-ordination, and increasingly badly concealed laughter were not helpful in this venture, and she lost her balance when he inadvertently pushed her left foot out from under her, causing her to let out a shout of laughter at the same time, "Booth!"

Feeling herself wobble, she tried to lower her arms to steady herself but caught Booth off-guard as she reached out to the couch in front of her, making him stumble forward before he could think to detach his hands from her wrists. Eventually his reflexes kicked in and he let go of her, only to have his feet swept from underneath him by his partner's leg as she twisted to land flat on the couch, sending him toppling on top of her with a panicked yet ultimately futile shout of warning, "Bon-"

Both the shout and the air were knocked out of him as he landed on his stomach, his limbs entangled with Brennan's and his weight pinning her underneath him, laughter still shaking both their bodies.

It was only when Brennan's soft laugh faded away that realisation fought to the surface of Booth's dazed mind; namely the realisation that his face was currently resting comfortably between his partner's breasts while the rest of his body covered hers. Eyes widening, he scrambled desperately off the couch, his knees impacting the carpeted floor with a thud and his elbow colliding painfully with the wooden table behind him.

Biting back a hiss of pain, he launched into an apology, his words spilling out as he struggled to right himself, "Sorry, Bones; I mean, I didn't think you'd fall, and I didn't mean to trip you, and my head just landed there- I definitely didn't mean to intrude on your breas- uh, your personal space, and I-"

He stopped, frowning in confusion as he looked at his partner who was lying perfectly still on the couch, eyes closed and oblivious to his not-entirely-coherent monologue. Irrational fear stabbed through him and he moved closer to her, asking with concern, "Bones? Bones, can you hear me? You okay?" His fingers went quickly to her neck, searching for a pulse as the worry intensified, "Bones?"

The feel of a pulse under his fingers alleviated the panic slightly, but he still bent close to her, breathing out himself as he saw her chest rise and fall in slow, steady breaths. Sighing quietly in relief, he watched her for a few moments as his heart rate returned to normal, a small smile playing on his lips at the sight of her stretched out on the cushions, her eyes closed and her expression peaceful.

She shifted slightly, barely awake but adjusting herself to a more comfortable position for her long-craved night's sleep, and Booth reached out a hand to wake her up, remembering his temporary duty as the Anti-Sandman. However, he only got as far as laying his hand gently on her shoulder, before his brain reminded him just how high up 'watch Bones sleeping peacefully next to him' ranked on his priority list. Smiling softly, he instead raised his hand carefully off her shoulder and instinctively stroked her head soothingly, her hair smooth and silky under his fingers.

Catching himself and swallowing hard, he moved to lift his hand from her head, fully aware that loving caresses went far beyond the bounds of partnership, but his movement was checked when Brennan sleepily tilted her head with a contented sigh to let his hand fall on her cheek.

Keeping as still as possible, a genuine smile spread across Booth's face as he heard his partner murmur absently yet utterly sincerely, "You make a nice blanket..."


End file.
